


Aftermath

by Tyler_Blackwing



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angry Bucky Barnes, Angry Sam Wilson, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Disappointment, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Marvel butchered Steve's character development, Not Beta Read, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22915312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyler_Blackwing/pseuds/Tyler_Blackwing
Summary: Watching Steve go pains him more than he could possibly say.How can his best friend drag him into another war and then leave him in this world?Good thing Bucky's not quite alone.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson
Kudos: 26





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not okay with Steve Rogers' character development in Endgame. Absolutely not. This is not what Bucky deserves. 
> 
> Kind of in a bad emotional place right now, but it helps with writing Bucky. A bit. My first actual fanfic in the fandom, though.  
> I hope they'll be nice to Bucky in the series.

Bucky’s heart is breaking as he watches him go. Steve disappears smiling as usual, warm and confident and stupid, and when the scheduled seconds are up, he’s not there. A sigh escapes his lips as he scans the surroundings, Banner’s panic fading into the background as his blood pounds in his ears. 

“Sam”, he says quietly and nods towards a wooden bench, with a tall but slightly slumped figure sitting on it. He manages an encouraging smile. 

Sam goes over, and he himself remains rooted to the ground, numb and shaky as if he’d fall as soon as he moves. His former best friend hands over his shield, beautiful and shiny as on the day he got it, and Sam looks over to him. It almost hurts, this consideration, the question in his eyes. Bucky nods, again, with a soft smile and shining eyes. Sam was a good man, a good choice. Steve couldn’t have picked anyone better for the job. He’d eyed him questioningly the night before, but Bucky could never see himself taking on this task, not with the little stability his mind provided. Sam concentrates on Steve again, and Bucky finally manages to move. He takes slow, measured steps away from the scene. 

He couldn’t possibly talk to Steve - until now, there had been a couple of years of separation and torture standing between them. Now, it was all of that plus a lifetime of happiness on Steve’s side. Not that he didn’t want that for him. He loved Steve. He’d have done anything for him, had wanted him to find that one girl, that picture book life. But he had always hoped to be at his side, happy with him. 

His chest tightens and he presses his lips into a line, stomping back to the compound. It doesn’t take long until Sam’s footsteps grow closer. 

“Hey, man”, the new Captain America greets him and Bucky just glances his way. “You alright?”

“Sure.” He keeps moving, because if he stops he’ll break, and he’s too done for a breakdown.

“Sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be. ‘M back alive. That purple guy’s dead. Stones are back, world’s alright again.”

“Your best friend just came back a grandpa, for one.”

Bucky can’t help but give a bitter scoff. 

“Best friend. Is he, now?” 

He can’t remember that he’d stopped walking, or turned towards Sam with a glare. He feels anger burn up in his chest, but drops his gaze quickly, bottling up his emotions and instead kicking at some gravel with the tip of his boot. Still, he realizes that Sam must have seen it, because the guy raises both eyebrows in wonder and cocks his head.  
Bucky feels his head swim. His eyes, too, a little, but he won’t start crying in front of this guy, he’s been tortured for long enough to keep that under control.    


“Hey-”, Sam starts again, using his counseling voice. Bucky never saw him work but he just knows he’s being analyzed and he hates it. 

“I can’t do this right now”, he declares, his stare cold and distant when he looks at his kind-of-friend again. “Leave it. Please.” 

And Sam actually listens. He puts a hand on his shoulder and gives him a sympathetic smile, and says something nice about getting him pizza. He likes pizza, even though he’s hardly had the chance to enjoy any in peace for a while. 

He finds himself in front of a super deluxe cheese stuffed crust monster in a huge carton a while later. A couple of beers stand on each side of the box, and some boring fantasy movie is blaring at him, something about an important ring and a stupid boy making stupid decisions. Sam is sitting not far from him, impressively quiet, just stealing a glance his way now and then. 

Bucky rubs his hand over his face and stares at the screen as if there’s actually something to see. Granted, it’s beautifully made, but he’s had half a lifetime of an idiot friend doing stuff he’s not fit for so he doesn’t really care for the plot. 

The best friend character gets told off by the idiot boy, gets left behind, and it seems to physically hurt him then and there. His piece of pizza finds its way back onto the cardboard and even the thought of a swing of beer doesn’t console him right now. Whiskey, perhaps… a whole lot of it. He takes a shaky breath and slumps down, almost curling into himself. A warm hand touches his arm as he starts gasping for air, and before he can get it together, Sam is closer, his free hand pressing onto Bucky’s chest.

“Hey, ‘s gonna be okay”, he murmurs and pats his arm, then his back, while Bucky gets his breathing under control. He huffs a weak laugh. 

“I used to do that”, he says. “Ages ago.”

The touch on his back changes, feels like small circles now, and it’s so strangely comforting that he puts his head into his hand and just closes his eyes. 

“I can’t believe that after everything… he did this.”

Sam shifts next to him and seems to check his breathing, pulling him into some sort of careful but slightly awkward half-hug. 

“End of the line, my ass.”

“You’re his best friend. You wanted him to be happy, right?” 

“Yeah, I did. I do. Just didn’t think he’d be such an asshole ‘bout it.”

“Come on, man. He did a lot o’ good. Not much peace since he woke up couple o’years ago.”

“He also pulled me out of this fucking rathole and into another fucking war! What for?”

Sam struggles with his reasoning. “So you can have a life. Be free. Right?”

Bucky lifts his gaze over his fingertips and just stares at him for a moment.  “What for?” 

His voice doesn’t quite crack when he gets the words out again. Sam's dutiful facade, however, does. Anger seems to flare up in his eyes for a moment, and Bucky knots his brows together, takes another shaky breath.    


“Sorry. I am happy for him, really. Just…”

“It makes no fucking sense, you’re right about that”, Sam interrupts.  
“I trust his judgement. And the accords were mostly bullshit. But his obsession with you, even starting a war with his friends, and then this? I went to prison following him. Breaking you guys free. An’ when he bailed us out…- They say they’ve looked for a way to bring us back for five fucking years, and then he goes off an’ leaves all of it…”

Bucky chuckles weakly while Sam tightens the grip around his shoulders. His eyes feel wet. 

“Can’t really blame him for wanting a quiet life.” 

“From what I heard, you had a quiet life, too, in Wakanda.” 

Ouch. Seems like Sam’s sense of justice kicked in, Bucky thinks staring into dark eyes. 

“Yeah, well. Always was stupid enough to follow that idiot into trouble. Didn’t think he’d leave me behind in good times, though.” 

It hurts. It fucking hurts, tears at his insides, almost as badly as Hydra’s tortures had, and his breathing feels painful and heavy as Sam gives another sigh and hugs him tightly.  
It’s weird. He’s not had this in a long time. Not even Steve was one for hugging, that little shit had always been too proud. Still, it helps a little, so he dares to lean his forehead against Sam’s shoulder.

“It was finally over.”

Sam rubs circles into his back again. “It never is.”

“...yeah. I know.”

“But you don’t have to follow him any more.”

“Never did it outta duty. I believed in him.”

He can hear a small grin in Sam’s voice.

“Well, Captain America _is_ something.”

“Not _him_. Steve Rogers. That little guy from Brooklyn.”

Sam sighs. Waits. Bucky feels a tear or two slip past his eyelids.

“I think he’s gone now. My best friend’s lived his life.”

A gentle warmth presses against the side of his head. Sam takes a while to speak again.

“My best friend died an’ I couldn’t save him. You protected yours as long as you could. Now you can only try to move on, just as he did.”

Bucky thinks for a while, breathes in closeness and comfort. 

“Hm. I Might’ve found a new guy to follow ‘round. Seems to be a pretty decent fella, too. Even though he’s an ass.”

Sam lets go just enough to look at him and smiles brightly. 

“You asking me to be friends, Barnes?”  
  
“Nah, let’s not exaggerate.”  
  
“Good. For the record, I still hate you.”  
  
And now Bucky smiles a little, too.  
  
“Fuck you, Wilson.”


End file.
